Awful play

Took the puppies for a lovely walk at Frensham – a spot Mirinda discovered last week. Not so many people. They loved it.

Then into Haslemere for the usual coffee and sandwich at Darnley’s.

After soup (caldo verde) and bread (carrot and mustard), we set off for the Yvonne Arnaud to see A Trap for a Lonely Man.

We met Dawn and Nick at the bar. Coincidentally, their seats are in the same row and only two seats from ours.

The play was dire. Very much a product of its time (1962). It started favourably, as if in the middle of a play, but then the inevitable long explanations and endless talk.

Directorial responsibility merely to decide when to have a drink and when to light a fag. The guy playing the husband poured drinks in a very weird way – he steadied the bottle neck with the index finger of his left hand while tilting (normally) with his right. I assumed it was to hide is nerves and subsequent shaking hand. Whatever the reason, it was terribly unnatural.

Anyway, after scene one, I turned to Mirinda and whispered, “You wanna go home?” She replied, “I don’t think it’s interval yet.” So I had to sit through scene 2 as well.

Met Dawn and Nick at the bar, once more, then went home. Boring, boring, boring.

The puppies welcomed us with open paws.

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